


The Abode of Snow

by 23Murasaki



Series: Everyone Lives! [19]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Cultural Differences, Gen, demoning is difficult
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2014-02-19
Packaged: 2018-01-12 02:34:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1180896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/23Murasaki/pseuds/23Murasaki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Agni manages to turn talking about the weather into a life lesson. Sebastian wonders about gods.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Abode of Snow

**Author's Note:**

> Um. I am very sorry for making people ship ships that are uncommonly shipped. The kittens will be back soon.

The demon shoved his hands further into the pockets of his long coat. It was cold, he thought. Weather didn’t usually affect him much, but this time he couldn’t quite shake off the chill. He supposed he could ignore the sensation until it faded– Grell had, recently, laughed in his face and told him he was “devilishly efficient” at ignoring things. Snow was beginning to fall again, the first flakes light and swirling, catching on the cold wind and dancing every which way. When he exhaled, his breath left a cloud of condensing vapor in the air.  
  
“Do you think the snow will stay until morning?” asked Agni curiously. He was watching the sky, and snowflakes were starting to collect on his bangs and eyelashes. It looked ridiculous and entirely too white.  
  
“Most likely,” said the demon disinterestedly. He would have to shovel the garden paths, then, and the front walk. His fellow servants would be of little help, as usual. Perhaps he would be able to guilt Agni into assisting him.  
  
“That is good,” said Agni with a smile. “My prince will be most glad.” The prince, the demon thought to himself, was both most glad and in the depths of despair about absolutely everything. Both extremes of emotion usually brought him, and by extension his servant, to tears.  
  
“Hm? Does it not snow in India?” asked the demon. He had never been to India. He had traveled little, because travel required names and money and energy and knowledge, and for most of his life he had lacked most if not all of the above. He had briefly been to Egypt, once, with a master who wanted to rob a pharaoh’s grave. The master had been shot aboard the ship heading back across the Mediterranean sea, and the demon, in a fit of perplexed melancholy, had not stopped the bullet.  
  
“Not in Bengal,” said Agni. “But India is a large country, much larger than England. There are many places where it snows.” That made sense.  
  
“In the north, then?” asked the demon. “Or in the mountains?” Most places had mountains, if they were large enough. Agni laughed quietly.  
  
“Yes. There are mountains in the north, and there is always snow there if you climb high enough,” he said. “In one of the languages – Sanskrit – they are called ‘the abode of snow’. The god of snow once lived there.” Again with the gods. Almost everything Agni came up with wound up having something to do with gods.  
  
“Ah?” said the demon. “Does he not live there any longer?” Agni smiled slightly.  
  
“The time of his kingdom is past, now,” he replied. “Only his name remains.”  
  
“And yet he is a god to you,” mused the demon, brushing the clinging snowflakes from his hair.  
  
“Have you met many gods, then, my friend?” asked Agni. The demon wondered if reapers fit the description. They didn’t seem to.  
  
“No,” said the demon truthfully. “I have only seen statues and paintings of dead ones.” Agni fell silent for a long moment, staring up at the clouds again. The demon wondered if he had won their half-argument finally. It didn’t feel nearly as good as he would have expected.  
  
“I have been taught that people are reborn again and again. Their souls never truly die. It is the same with the souls of gods.” He smiled softly. “Gods can walk this world as human beings, or animals, or even asura. When they are needed, they will become their real selves.”  
  
“I see,” said the demon, fully intending to look up what an asura was at the first opportunity. “In the mean time, the world turns without them.”  
  
“Yes,” said Agni. “So it does.” He had not won the half-argument. He was once again not sure that Agni was aware there was a half-argument.  
  
“Was he a fearsome god?” the demon asked abruptly. “A warrior, like Kali?”  
  
“He was a king and father, more than a warrior,” said Agni. “Although, such a person can be fearsome as well. There are more stories told of his daughters.” The demon wondered about gods and fathers and old stories, and found that he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around any of it. Instead he saw a faceless figure on a throne of ice, shadowy girls kneeling at his feet.  
  
“Who are his daughters?” he asked, wondering if they were cold and cruel as well. Agni seemed to sense it, and shook his head.  
  
“One of them is the goddess of the Ganges river. She can reach into all worlds and cleanse people of suffering and sin. Her sister is Parvati, the kind goddess of love and devotion.” That jarred a little. He thought of angels, but came up empty again.  
  
“How many gods do you even have?” he asked in exasperation. Agni laughed.  
  
“As many as are needed,” he replied. “And they are always needed.” The snow started coming down harder, and the demon made a noise of annoyance as he pulled his collar closer against his face.  
  
“If there’s a goddess of snow shovels, pray to her,” he growled. Agni kept laughing until he got snow in his mouth and had to stop to cough.  
  
“I will say those prayers in your name, my friend,” he said, patting the demon on the shoulder. The demon was suddenly very aware of having lost the half-argument, at least for the day.


End file.
